


what's yours (what's mine)

by weatheredlaw



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Challenge: Fic a Day in May, Cohabitation, Conflict Resolution, Established Relationship, F/M, Pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6791746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because she’s trying, when it comes to Nick and their space. She’s trying to make it theirs, and make it equal and good. </p><p>She’s trying, because she’s good at that.</p><p>The doing…that’s a little harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's yours (what's mine)

**Author's Note:**

> idk [i blame rich moore.](https://twitter.com/_rich_moore/status/729167821687562240) i also pumped this out in like twenty minutes that man makes me a monster. i'll start putting stuff back into my one-shot collection at the end of the month - this fic a day challenge is whooping my ass and it's only been eight days.

“It’s _not_ funny.”

“Oh, it is.”

Judy’s foot thumps without thought, and she wills it to stop. “Nicholas, put it away.”

“I _can’t._ This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. To us!” He brandishes the little photo in her face, and Judy snatches it up. “Judith. Judith _Laverne_ , will you please let me frame this?”

“Absolutely not.” She grabs up the box of photos her mother had mailed and stuff it back inside. “You are never looking through these again.” She knows he’s going to go digging through it, the second she steps away, so she picks it up and hauls it into the bedroom, stuffing it under the bed. “We’re done with this conversation.”

“Aw, come on. I’ll tell you my terrible middle name if you let me hang just a few.”

Judy rolls her eyes. “Your middle name _cannot_ be worse than Laverne.”

“Oh.” He steps forward, putting his paws on her shoulders. “Carrots. My love. _My darlin’._ It is.”

 

* * *

 

She narrows her eyes at the driver’s license, impressed, for one, that he even _has_ one, and stifles a laugh. “ _Piberius?_ ”

“I told you. It’s _horrendous._ ”

“Where does that even come from?”

“My…grandfather? I think? Someone old and someone dead, that’s for sure. I think my dad’s middle name was Richard or something stupidly normal.” He takes the driver’s license back and puts it into his wallet. “So. I showed you mine. Now cough up your cutest photos and let’s get ‘em up there.”

Judy shakes her head. “Nope.”

Nick groans. “Come _on_ , Judy. This is our space! Our together place! Or whatever! Shouldn’t it have some cute stuff on the walls?”

“So I’ll get some pictures of flowers it’ll be the same thing.”

“While you are beautiful and sweetly scented, you are not a flower, and I would rather see cute pictures of _us both_ than crappy Ikea flower sets any day.”

Judy shrugs. “No deal, slick.”

He laughs. “Then you just started a war, fluff. Prepare yourself.”

 

* * *

 

The first photo shows up on her desk a few days later, and there are about four uniformed officers clustered around it making little noises.

“Judy!” Clawhauser lifts the frame. “You didn’t tell us you were such an adorable baby!”

“ _Where did you get that?_ ”

“War’s on, Judith.” Nick presses a cup of coffee into her hand, tipping his sunglasses down to wink at her. “Told you.”

She growls. “You asked for it, Nicholas.”

The next morning, Nick’s name plate on his desk is covered in white labels, his full name spelled out in large, black, block lettering. Francine _snorts._

“Pi _berius._ That’s amazing.”

“ _Carrots!_ ”

Judy props her feet on her desk. “What was that you said yesterday? It’s a war, sweetheart.” Nick aims a wad of paper at her and she bats it away. “Stay out of the box, Nick.”

“ _Never._ ”

“Fine. I’m just going to have to call in some back-up.” She pulls out her phone. “I think your mom and I are on a first name basis now, right?”

Nick freezes over his desk, turning his head slowly to stare at her. “You wouldn’t _dare._ ”

“Oh.” Judy stands and walks over to him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down, grinning. “I _would._ ”

 

* * *

 

The war escalates slowly, and then, all at once. At one point, every officer in the precinct is wearing either a “Laverne” or “Piberius” button, Clawhauser is keeping score for which terrible baby photo is the worst, and even Bogo has allowed the competition to go far enough so that the entire precinct may vote.

And then, he says: “It’s over.”

Judy nods. “Agreed, sir.”

He strokes his chin. “This has been peculiarly good for morale. I’ve had five different detectives in my office asking if we could have ugly baby photo contests a few times a year.”

“Anything to keep up everyone’s spirits,” Nick says, wearing his “Laverne” button proudly.

In the breakroom, Fangmire wonders how it started, and Judy explains, “Nick wants to put up some photos of me as a kid in our apartment. I said no. Now we’re…not even fighting about that anymore, I guess.”

“You guys have some weird conflict resolution skills. But cool, too. I guess.” He shrugs. “What’s wrong with some baby pictures?”

Judy sighs. “I don’t know. I grew up _surrounded_ by them. I have so many siblings, my mom just covered the walls in all of us. I got tired of it, after a while. I just…don’t need that.”

“Sounds like something you should, like, tell your boyfriend. Or whatever.”

Judy shrugs. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

“Pretty sure this _boyfriend_ of yours would have been sympathetic about it two weeks ago,” Nick says, leaning close to her ear. “ _Boo._ ”

“Nick!”

“You say the darndest things when you think I’m not listening, Carrots.” He kisses between her ears. “I won’t hang anything,” he says. “Not unless you want me to.”

 

* * *

 

Judy clocks out a little early, goes home, and does some thinking.

And after the thinking, she does some…well, _doing._

Because she’s trying, when it comes to Nick and their space. She’s trying to make it _theirs_ , and make it equal and good.

She’s trying, because she’s good at that.

The doing…that’s a little harder.

 

* * *

 

Nick comes home, and says under his breath, “Wow.”

“Do you…like it?”

“Carrots.” He turns to her. “This is awesome.”

Judy smiles. “I know it’s not a lot, but I can’t…overpower the place with it. I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

Nick nods. “I know. I get it. And I’m glad you said something.” He puts his arm around her, turning to the part of the wall she’s changed over the last few hours. “This is great.”

It’s a set of photos, connected to one another and hanging in the center of the wall. There are only two photos of them as children, plus just…one extra, of Nick. Nick and his mom. It’s a good one. She’d made his mom cry when she asked for some of them. A good cry, not a sad one.

The rest are pictures of them. Them at Nick’s graduation, them after Nick got his first medal, them at his mom’s birthday. Them in the Burrow. Them just… _together._ Their space. Their _doing._ Their trying.

“Judith Laverne Hopps…”

“Nicholas Piberius Wilde.”

He laughs. “You spoil me, and I love you.”

“I want this. I want this space and these rooms to really be _ours._ And I want to work on that with you.”

Nick nods, pulling her onto the couch and letting her rest on his chest. “I know. I want that, too.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Hey, how about one more?”

“This is a good moment,” she admits.

“It’s the best moment.”

He kisses her cheek and takes a photo.

And it’s a good one.

It goes by her bed. By their bed. The one they share.

Her, and her fox.


End file.
